


I could keep the world balanced on my nose

by SilverHeart09



Category: Doctor Who
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-28
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-03-26 08:16:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19001908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverHeart09/pseuds/SilverHeart09
Summary: 'Then, suddenly, the voices go, and instead it’s a lone familiar Scottish accent that speaks to her, soothing, gentle.Look at her eyes.She does, and just before unconsciousness sends her tilting into Ryan’s waiting arms she sees the shadow behind Yaz’s eyes and the smirk on her usually open, gentle face.There’s something wrong with Yaz.'





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you're ready for some Yaz and Doctor whump! 
> 
> Fic title is a lyric from 'What's Up Danger' which just screams Thirteen at me.

There’s a voice in her head, whispering, buzzing, bumping around in her brain. 

Dimly she registers Graham’s voice, both far away and so close, speaking to her, trying to pull her back into the present. He sounds desperate, his tones pleading and urgent. There’s a hand on her shoulder shaking her and she wonders if it’s his. She feels hot and she can hear something crackling, the smell of burning and smoke filling her nostrils. It feels uncomfortably close and she tries to roll away from the heat but her useless limbs won’t do what she wants them to.

_ Be careful, take it easy. _

It isn’t Graham’s voice in her head - though she can still hear him talking to her from somewhere to her left - it’s someone else's. It sounds familiar, as though she heard it in a dream or listened to it on the radio. She can’t place it though, try as she might, and she wonders if she’s finally gone loopy. 

_ Just be unconscious already, it’ll hurt less later.  _

Her head is swimming and her limbs feel like lead but she tries to move, tries to open her eyes or wriggle her toes. Graham is sounding more and more frightened, the hand on her shoulder shaking her harder and she wants to give him a sign to let him know that she’s okay.

_ Are you okay? _

‘Who are you?’

Her voice is dusty and sore, the words aggravating her burnt lungs. She coughs up dust and debris and her chest burns like it’s on fire, but still the voice doesn’t stop. It’s more urgent now, almost shouting, and she winces and scrunches her face, Graham interpreting this as a reaction to pain. 

‘Doc, it’s me. Graham. You’re alright, just hold on.’

To what? There’s something annoying swinging against her, something aching and pulling and uncomfortable.

It takes her a while to register that it’s her arm, hanging limply by her side as Graham lifts her up and staggers with her, tripping on the debris-covered ground as he carries her to safety, away from the heat and the sound of fire crackling.

‘Give her to me, you go find Yaz.’

Yaz?

There had been something. Something important about Yaz. Something urgent. So, so urgent.

Her body shifts and she can’t hold back the cry that sets off another round of coughing, her fingers opening and closing pathetically as she tries to hold on, tries to ground herself to the present.

_ Nothing wrong with a little nap. Trying to fight will only make it worse. _

‘Leave me alone,’ she mutters, but her head is swimming and her ears are ringing and there’s something heavy attached to her, dragging her down, trying to pull her into its depths.

She shifts and her hands find purchase, gripping as hard as she can.

‘I’ve got you.’

Ryan. 

But where was Yaz?

‘I can see her! She’s under here! I can’t get to her though, I need a hand.’

She’s laid down on an uncomfortable surface and something soft is tucked under her head. It helps a little, but the real pain is in her legs and the movement wakens it and she screams. 

‘Doctor!’

Ryan again, hands on her shoulders. She opens her eyes and sees his above her. Warm and dark and gentle.

And full of fear. What’s he afraid of?

‘It’s okay, I’m going to be right over there. You just rest while we get Yaz then we’ll get you back to the TARDIS, yeah?’

She’s too tired to respond, but she feels him squeeze her hand tightly, briefly, before it falls back to the ground.

Yaz. Something was wrong with Yaz.

_ You need to get to her before you run out of time. Or die. Whichever comes first. _

The voice is persistent but it’s starting to fade. It takes her a moment to realise that’s because her mind is fading, slipping away from her too quickly to grip hold of. She’s spiraling down into the depths and she’s all alone.

_ You have me. _

There’s a lilt to the voice, an accent she can’t quite place. It sounds familiar and she finds herself trying to search for it in the unspooling thread of her thoughts. It’s getting dark now, and she doesn’t want to die alone.

_ Always so melodramatic. _

There’s voices in the distance, or maybe they’re a few feet away, and she hears a triumphant cry and the sound of metal meeting metal somewhere to her left. 

‘Where’s the Doctor?’

‘She’s over there. Can you see her, Yaz? She’s in a bad way. We need to get you both back to the TARDIS.’

Yaz.

There was something wrong with Yaz. 

* * *

When she wakes up there’s bright lights above her that immediately dim and soft voices speaking quietly to each other, whispering urgently in the still atmosphere of what she assumes is her ship.

She feels groggy, but the pain has gone and instead her limbs are heavy. She feels as though she’s sinking into the - whatever it is she’s lying on - and she closes her eyes again as a wave of nausea sweeps through her. Her head is spinning and she can taste bile and dirt at the back of her throat.

‘Hey, love.’

There’s a hand in hers. Old, weathered, calloused. The hand gives her a gentle squeeze and she tries to open her eyes again, turning her head away from the lights above her face which dim a little more to focus on Graham. His face is soft, if a little blurry, and he looks worried. He reminds her a bit of her own grandfather despite the fact she’s thousands of years older than him. Or one of them, anyway. 

‘Gra’m?’

Her voice is slurred and heavy and even that one word is enough to send exhaustion burning through her veins. The world tilts sharply on its axis and she almost misses his next words. 

‘Yeah. It’s me, Doc. You were really badly hurt. Are you in pain?’

She shakes her head. There’s no pain, only nausea and achiness and a ringing in her ears that hasn’t eased off and is still loud loud loud in her head.

There was something else too. Something she needed to remember.

‘Yaz?’

One syllable word. So much easier. If only all words had just one syllable.

Graham moves aside a little and she sees a small figure, wrapped in bandages, lying in the bed next to hers. Ryan is sat at her side and she’s awake, maybe. There’s still a blurriness in front of her eyes and she’s just starting to wonder if she needs to dig out Amy’s old specs when the voice sounds again:

_ Concentrate. _

‘Leave me alone,’ she mumbles, and then regrets it when Graham frowns and shakes his head. 

‘Won’t do that, Doc,’ he says gently. ‘We need to keep an eye on you. On both of you.’

_ Don’t go back to sleep. _

The world is tilting more sharply now and she can feel herself slipping off the edge, unable to cling on any long.

‘Yaz is fine,’ Graham says, and she only realises she was trying to sit up and look for her when a gentle hand is easing her back down onto the pillows.

The voice is back in her head, whispering, nagging, not letting her rest.

‘No!’ The word comes out as a pained shout and Graham doesn’t have time to react when she rolls herself off the bed and lands with a  _ thud  _ on the floor. She makes it to her hands and knees and starts to crawl, desperate, towards Yaz’s bed while the voice screams inside her head. 

_ There’ssomethingwrongwithYazthere’ssomethingwrongwithYazthere’ssomethingwrongwithYaz. _

‘Doc! What are you doing?’

Graham’s hand is firm on her shoulder but she shakes him off, surging forwards towards Yaz’s bed. The TARDIS is beeping angrily over her head, wanting her back in bed this instant, but she ignores it and tries to fight off Ryan as he kneels in front of her, blocking the way to Yaz.

‘Knock it off! I’m going to help you,’ Ryan tells her firmly. ‘If seeing Yaz will get you back into bed then fine.’ 

There’s no pain, and she’s grateful to her ship for supplying the two humans with industrial strength Gallifreyan analgesics, but this goes against her when suddenly Ryan and Graham are yelling at her to  _ not put weight on that leg that’s your injured one. _

She looks down but can’t see anything wrong with it. It’s still attached to her, that has to be good, right? Maybe a little paler than usual but otherwise okay-looking.

‘That’s the bandage, Doctor,’ Ryan says, and she realises she must have said that last part out loud.

Ryan’s arm around her waist is firm and reassuring and she leans heavily into him as he helps her into the chair. Her head is still spinning and there’s an edge of pain that’s starting to creep into her limbs but she tries to ignore it when she sees Yaz, lying on her side with those warm, dark eyes open, looking fondly at her. 

‘You should be resting,’ Yaz says, and the Doctor reaches out a hand to grope blindly for Yaz’s. She can’t find it though, everything is getting blurry and unfocused again and the voice is practically pounding on the inside of her head. 

_ There’ssomethingwrongwithYazthere’ssomethingwrongwithYazthere’ssomethingwrongwithYaz. _

It’s more than one voice, she’s starting to realise, and she presses her hands against her ears and screws her face up and tells them to  _ shut up and leave her alone.  _

‘Doctor?’

Her friends are immediately around her, Yaz reaching across to hold her arm while Graham and Ryan dither at her shoulders. She can feel them dithering and she’s starting to feel boxed in, everything loud and confused, everyone too close to her. 

‘They won’t stop,’ she cries. The pain is back now, throbbing down her leg and her mind is slipping away from her, head spinning and blood pumping as she desperately tries to hold onto consciousness. 

Then, suddenly, the voices go, and instead it’s a lone familiar Scottish accent that speaks to her, soothing, gentle.

_ Look at her eyes. _

She does, and just before unconsciousness sends her tilting into Ryan’s waiting arms she sees the shadow behind Yaz’s eyes and the smirk on her usually open, gentle face.

_ There’s something wrong with Yaz. _

* * *

When she wakes up again she’s in agony.

The voices are still there, still yelling at her, but now she has what feels like sparks of electricity burrowing their way into her limbs; the short, sharp, shocks sending pulses of pain radiating down her arms and legs.

‘Doc, tell us where it hurts.’

But she can’t tell them anything, can’t open her mouth to scream, can’t move her hands or feet, can’t open her eyes. She’s trapped, locked inside her useless body, unable to communicate.

_ This has happened before. Do what you did before. _

That voice sounded old, deep and booming. Images of thick, curly hair and a long knitted scarf swim in front of her eyes and almost immediately another voice speaks to her, one that reminds her of a blue cravat and a collar with question marks on them. 

_ Your friend is running out of time.  _ You  _ are running out of time. _

The TARDIS is trying to push herself into her mind and she can hear the concerned humming and beeping from above as her oldest friend tries to help her. Ryan and Graham are attempting to speak to her ship, trying to translate the agitated whistles into a language they can recognise. The Doctor tries to listen to what the voices are telling her, tries to remember when, exactly, this has happened before. 

A rocky beach, a dark shape shimmering in front of her, a stabbing feeling as sharp, barb-like talons gripped her and burrowed their way into her soul.

Of course she wasn’t a ‘her’ then, she was a ‘he’. Full of cocky bravado, velvet jackets and frilly shirts, driving around in a canary-yellow roadster and annoying the Brigadier and UNIT.

He’d met Sarah Jane back then. Had that really been so long ago?

_ Focus. _

That was him, whispering to her, trying to show her the images of that fateful encounter all those years ago. She remembered it had been cold and grey, but everything from that time was a clouded blur. 

_ It’s called the Shananthra. _

Of course. A black mass created in the heart of a black hole. Crushed and twisted by the gravitational acceleration and molded in the fabric of spacetime. A creature so dark and dangerous it destroyed everything it came across.

* * *

She’d recognised the signs of one when she’d been exploring the building with Yaz, never one to miss out on the possibility of finding a ghost in an abandoned manor house. The locals had said they’d heard wailing and the sounds of screams coming from the building at night, making their dogs howl and their children hide under their blankets. They’d been exploring the old kitchen when the air had turned cold, ice had formed on the doorframes, and the Doctor had shivered; the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end.

Yaz - wonderful, brilliant Yaz - had noticed the change in temperature as well but barely had time to ask what they meant before the Shananthra had barrelled into her, forcing her to her knees as Yaz’s head tipped back and she screamed silently, the creature crawling inside her and taking possession of her mind and limbs.

Everything had gone south very quickly after that. 

The creature - using Yaz’s limbs and eyes - had grabbed an ornate candlestick and smashed it against the side of the Doctor’s head, sending her sprawling to the ground where she lay, dazed, desperately trying to pull herself upright and fighting against waves of nausea. 

The striking of a match had alerted the Doctor to the candles that the creature was lighting, walking carefully around the room with a burning match in one hand, testing out its new limbs and body.

‘Leave her alone,’ the Doctor had wheezed, managing to stand up on shaky legs. She had no idea how she was going to defeat it without hurting Yaz, but perhaps if she pleaded her case the creature would simply leave them alone.

Yeah right. Cause when had that ever happened?

_ Stay focused. Then what happened? _

Another one of her previous selves. Big ears and leather jacket, still broken and raw from the Time War and the sacrifice he’d thought he’d made.

(Had he still made it? Or was the destruction of Gallifrey locked away in an alternate timeline that had been overwritten when Grandad, Sandshoes and the Chin had altered history and brought them all back?)

The creature had smirked at her and it felt wrong wrong wrong. That sickly twisting smile didn't belong on Yaz’s face, didn't belong anywhere near her. Yaz was bright and full of life and joy and the Shananthra was full of hate, rage and disgust. The creature had more in common with the Doctor than it did with Yasmin.

‘Take me instead,’ she’d said, although the words had come out more as a plea. ‘Let her go.’

The creature had looked at her, head tilted to one side, eyes narrowed, and when it spoke it had Yaz’s voice. But not her soul. Not yet. 

‘I tried that before and you tricked me. I won’t make the same mistake again.’

Before? Now the Doctor’s mind was reeling, flashes of a rocky beach and Sarah Jane’s face flashing across her eyes. Had this happened before? There was a day or two of memory lost to her, something that had happened back then. Sarah Jane knew. Sarah Jane always knew, but she hadn’t breathed a word of it and the Doctor hadn’t pushed her.

It had been bad though. Whatever she’d -  _ he’d  _ \- done back then had been bad.

‘You don’t remember?’ the creature had said, eyes narrowing while its smirk spread a little more. ‘I bet your friend does though. I bet she never forgot.’

The Doctor had said nothing, eyes darting around the room as she tried to figure out an escape route. If she could just make it to the window… the drop couldn’t be that bad, surely? She’s survived worse. But what about Yaz? She couldn’t leave Yaz.

But then the Shananthra was in front of her, gripping her arms and biting her neck with razor sharp fangs that didn't belong to Yaz, sending ice spreading through her body. 

‘I won’t kill you,’ the creature had said, eyes burning as it had pulled away from her, still holding her tightly. ‘Not yet, anyway. I want you to suffer. I want you to feel the pain that I felt, I want you to burn like I did.’

‘Burn?’ the Doctor had managed to choke out, the paralysing agent in the creature’s fangs already numbing the tips of her toes and her fingers. 

‘You remember,’ the creature had said, sharp nails digging into her skin. ‘And if you don’t yet, I’ll make sure you will.’

Then she’d thrown the Doctor to the ground, punched through the floorboards and snapped a gas pipe with her bare hands.

The explosion, when it had happened a few seconds later, had thrown the Doctor through the air and the last thing she’d remembered seeing was Yaz stood in the burning wreckage, that sick grin on her face, surrounded by fire.

* * *

_ You burned it,  _ her third self tells her.  _ Better remember how you did it. _

‘How is she?’

Yaz’s voice from the doorway drags her mind back to the present. The voices are contemplative now, considering, talking quietly amongst themselves. It’s not so loud and the Doctor finally feels as though she can concentrate.

Not that it matters. The Shananthra venom is squeezing her hearts now and she can feel them jumping irregularly in her chest. Her head is beginning to swim again and the corners of her mind are closing in and getting dark. Her superior biology fought it off for as long as it could, but she’s too weak and injured to focus all her efforts on healing herself. She’s dying and there’s nothing she can do. 

_ Stay focused. _

Her twelfth self. The one who’d born her. The one who’d begged her to be kind. 

Fat lot of good being kind ever did him. Or Bill. Or Clara.

Or Missy.

‘I think she’s-’

Ryan’s voice tails off and the Doctor lets out a wheeze as the venom freezes one of her hearts, pain stabbing through and across her chest as the other organ tries to take up the slack, tries to do the work of two. 

‘Doc, please.’

Graham sounds sad, his hand is in hers and he’s squeezing lightly.

‘At least she isn’t in pain.’

Yaz sounds sympathetic, but Graham and Ryan have their hands on the Doctor and she feels their suspicion and distrust through her telepathy. They know something’s amiss with Yaz. 

_ Oh gods. I’ve been an idiot. _

That was her own voice, clear as a bell in her head, and her other selves grudgingly agree, quieting down as she quickly formulates a plan.

_ Don’t move. Don’t react. Say nothing. _

The hands in hers jump a little, fingers squeezing erratically as she searches out for Ryan and Graham’s minds and pushes her way into their heads. She knows they heard her, she can practically feel their heart rates increasing, but her own is slowing down and she has to be quick. Yaz is still in the room. Time is running out.

_ Get rid of her. _

‘Yaz, love.’ Graham clears his throat, coughs a little. She can feel his fear and his anxiety but he’s a strong man, never one to back down from a challenge. He’ll protect her till his dying breath, whether she wants him to or not.

‘Do you mind getting another blanket?’ Ryan asks, taking over from his floundering grandad. ‘She’s cold. The ones in here aren’t great, I think she needs something warmer.’

_ The ‘ones in here’ are high-quality, military grade issue thankyouverymuch,  _ the Doctor responds, managing to attach an accompanying eye roll into her words.  _ They may be the only ones left in existance. You get hypothermia you better hope someone’s got one of these blankets.  _

It works though. Yaz leaves and Ryan quickly closes and locks the door behind her. 

‘Doc? What the hell?’

Graham is still confused, but his hand is still in hers and she can still communicate. It’s becoming harder though, her remaining heart thumping unsteadily as her body shuts down.

She doesn’t want to regenerate. She isn’t ready.

She isn’t even sure she’d be able to. 

_ TARDIS. _

Two syllables. Even with her telepathy that’s all she can manage now.

‘We’re in the TARDIS, Doctor,’ Ryan says. He’s holding her other hand, linked back into the conversation.

She hopes it isn’t too disorientating for them. She doesn’t make a habit of it for a reason.

_ Venom. _

She’s hoping the TARDIS will chime in any second now. She knows she’s listening, can practically feel the presence of her ship hovering over her, fussing and worrying and sending goosebumps racing across her skin. She still can’t open her eyes and she realises, with one last stuttering jolt of her heart, that she’s out of time.

‘Venom? What venom? Doctor? Hey! Doctor!’

Her heart stops, her mind spirals, and she tilts and lurches sideways off the edge of the universe.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so if you haven't seen the 'Journey to the Heart of the TARDIS' episode please YouTube the scene where Eleven and Clara are in the Eye of Harmony for background imagery :)
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who's left comments and kudos! :D

She gasps awake a few seconds later, flying upwards with a hand clutching her chest (both hearts pounding strongly, she notes gratefully) and Ryan jumps away from her in shock, a syringe with a wickedly long needle clasped in his hand. 

‘Oh thank god,’ Graham sobs, squeezing her arm tightly. ‘I thought you were a goner for a sec there, Doc.’

‘Are you two okay?’

She takes their arms, searches their faces. They were outside when the building exploded but, judging from the tiny marks dotted across their skin, it looks like they were hit by shrapnel. Or maybe they injured themselves going in to rescue the two women. Either way, she’s glad they’re both alive. 

‘We’re fine, Doc, but something really weird is going on with Yaz,’ Graham says, and the Doctor swings her legs over the side of the bed, wriggling her toes, testing the strength. 

‘When we found her she was trapped under a desk,’ Ryan says, helping the Doctor to stand. She feels okay. A little sore, perhaps, but her legs don’t feel too bad and she examines the crude bandages around them. A healing coma would sort her out properly, but she doesn't have time for that right now. Maybe later.

If she’s still alive later. 

‘Yeah, and she was all beaten up but when we got you both back into the TARDIS she healed in minutes,’ Graham says. ‘You were lying there all black and blue and she just got up and walked out like there was nothing wrong!’

‘And that was weird,’ Ryan agrees. ‘Cause it’s  _ Yaz.  _ Remember when you caught Contrav Flu? She didn't leave your side for  _ days.’ _

The Doctor did remember. Contrav Flu  _ sucks. _

She takes a few steps forwards hesitantly, feeling her muscles complain as she moves. Ryan stands in front of her with his arms loosely at his sides, ready to catch her if she falls. 

‘What happened in the house?’ Graham is asking, and her attention snaps back towards him. ‘What caused the explosion?’

‘Yaz did,’ she replies. ‘Or not Yaz specifically, cause that isn’t Yaz out there.’

‘I don’t understand, is she in danger?’ Ryan asks, and his face pales when she nods. 

‘It’s called the Shananthra. Energy eating creature forged in the centre of a black hole. It took over Yaz in the house, poisoned me, and blew up the building.’

‘That’s what the TARDIS said,’ Ryan says, dropping the syringe in his hand into a sharps bin with disgust. ‘She said we had to inject you with this to counteract the venom.’ 

‘She really left it to the last minute though, Doc,’ Graham says, looking up at the ceiling crossly, and the TARDIS bings reproachfully.

‘Not her fault,’ the Doctor replies. She spots her slightly singed coat lying over the end of the bed and pulls it on, catching her reflection in a steel tray and scronching her face.

She looks exactly like you’d expect someone who had just got blown up to look, funnily enough.

‘What’s the plan then?’ Graham asks. ‘How do we get that thing out of Yaz?’

‘There’s no  _ we,  _ Graham,’ she tells him, and immediately feels guilty when she sees the hurt on his face. 

‘Course there is, that’s how we roll,’ Ryan protests. ‘And it’s  _ Yaz.’ _

‘No, it’s not,’ the Doctor says urgently, grabbing their arms and squeezing tightly. ‘That’s not Yaz. Yaz is buried somewhere. The Shananthra will kill both of you before you even get anywhere near it. You two find somewhere safe to hide, I’ll go deal with it.’

‘What do you mean  _ deal with it,’  _ Graham asks. He looks worried, slightly terrified, and the Doctor regrets her choice of words.

‘I mean…’ she rubs the back of her head where a dull, throbbing pain is beginning to build up. She’s not healed yet and in no condition to go running around her ship after the monster that's taken over her friend. Her hearts are beating but they’re unsteady and she feels a little weird, as though a gust of wind will knock her over.

Ryan, being the caring, wonderful man that he is, notices and takes her arm. She instantly feels grounded. More steady. More focused. 

‘We do this together,’ Ryan tells her firmly. ‘Whatever “this” is. Cause you look like you could do with a nap and honestly I don’t think you’re even going to make it to the door without falling over.’

‘Pft,’ the Doctor protests, batting away his concerns. ‘It’s like five feet away! How hard is that.’

She falls after 2 feet, and Graham and Ryan are both immediately at her side to lift her up. She hangs limp between them, grumbling crossly to herself, and once she’s firmly back on her feet she tucks her hair behind her ears, rolls up her sleeves, and turns to the two men with fire in her eyes. 

They practically snap to attention, so determined is her look. 

‘I’ve come across this creature before,’ she says, trying to remember. ‘Years and years and years ago. It possessed me, I think. Sarah Jane was with me. She managed to get it out but I don’t know how, she never said. I only know it was bad.’

‘What happened to it after that?’ Ryan asks. ‘Where’s it been hiding?’

‘I don’t…’

She tries to concentrate, wracks her brain for the memory that she can feel locked away. It’s straining to be released and she catches snatches of colour, but nothing concrete. Nothing she is completely certain about. 

A rocky beach, a black cloud, Sarah Jane’s heartbroken face.

Fire.

‘Can we go and ask your friend?’ Graham asks. ‘Sarah Jane?’

The Doctor shakes her head. 

‘Moving the TARDIS is too risky. We’re safe in the Time Vortex, for the moment anyway. The Shananthra doesn’t know how to fly her and I don’t want to give her any tips.’

Then the lights go out and they’re plunged into darkness. 

* * *

Making it through the TARDIS corridors is difficult, especially in the darkness, and the Doctor is grateful to Graham and Ryan for holding onto her arms, though she wishes they were still hiding away somewhere safe and not heading straight towards danger. Her legs are painful and sore and she’s pretty sure there’s blisters on the soles of her feet from the explosion, but she staggers onwards with her two friends, the light from Ryan’s phone leading the way, and tries to remember what happened all those years ago.

She’d (or rather  _ he’d)  _ been walking on a beach with Sarah Jane, stuck on Earth after being exiled there by the Time Lords. It had been cloudy and cold, she remembered the grey sky and the small drops of rain that were beginning to fall, but it hadn’t mattered. Sarah Jane had been smiling, radiant, and he’d been laughing and they’d been having a good time in each other’s company.

Then things started to get a little fuzzy.

It had gripped him, talons burrowing into his soul and essence pushing and squeezing into his head. Sarah Jane had looked terrified, starting towards him before he’d pushed her back onto the sand with a shove of his hand as the creature tore and scratched and bit at his subconscious, sending him hurtling down into the depths and recesses of his own mind. 

He’d woken up two days later with Sarah Jane and the Brigadier in front of him and the creature nowhere in sight. He’d asked what had happened, but they’d not been forthcoming in their responses.

In fact, they’d refused to tell him anything. 

There were snatches though, the Doctor ponders as she stumbles and Ryan’s arm snakes around her waist to hold her tightly, checking she’s okay before they continue their walk. Snatches of pain, screaming, fire, heat, burning.

The voices in her head have gone now, leaving after serving their purpose to her injured mind. She’s heard of it happening before, of Time Lords getting help from their past selves after suffering catastrophic injuries, but had never experienced it herself until now. It was a strange sensation, and not one she hopes to repeat in the near future.

‘Doc, where are we going?’ Graham asks, as they pause for a quick rest.

The Doctor looks around her, brow furrowed, trying to peer through the gloom to determine their position. She knows the ship like the back of her hand (although she was sure that mole hadn’t been there a few days ago) and she’d been trying to lead them towards the control room, except the medical room door is still only a few feet behind them and she realises the TARDIS has been looping them around the same corridor for the past ten minutes. 

She pulls her sonic out and scans quickly, not that she needs it, she knows what’s happening, but she feels as though she should at least pretend to her two friends to be taking control of the situation.

‘The TARDIS has put this corridor in spacial flux,’ she says, looking at the sonic as though she doesn’t already know exactly what it says. 

‘In english, Doc?’ Graham asks, gripping her arm so Ryan can untangle himself and have a break from supporting her weight.

‘She’s protecting us,’ the Doctor sighs, shoving the sonic back into her pocket and running a hand through her messy hair, feeling blood and dirt in the filthy blonde strands. ‘She’s created a little bubble, stopped us going after Yaz.’

‘What happened to the power?’ Ryan asks, shining his phone around the wall as though hoping to find a light switch or an obvious button that says  _ push me for light! _

‘She’s powered down,’ the Doctor frowns. ‘I think to stop Yaz from attempting to fly her.’

‘But not Yaz, right?’ Graham corrects. ‘The Shanalangabingbong.’

‘Yes, that thing,’ the Doctor agrees. 

‘How are we going to get to Yaz if we can’t even get out this corridor?’ Ryan complains, rubbing his face, and the Doctor ponders this thoughtfully. She can feel the spacial flux around her, can practically  _ see  _ it, and she’s pretty certain she could push her way past it relatively easily, but isn’t sure she has the strength to drag Ryan and Graham through with her. Isn’t sure she  _ should  _ drag Ryan and Graham through with her. 

‘Doc?’ Graham prompts, his hand on her arm squeezing gently, and she reaches out a hand, feels the distortion around her fingers. She tugs on it, feels the energy and the low whimper of the TARDIS in her mind, feels something wobbly as she presses through the flux with her fingertips. It’s spongy and firm, but she can feel it give a little and a few seconds later her fingertips disappear into the space beyond, and she removes her hand. 

‘I can get through,’ she says after a moment, shrugging Graham’s hand off so she’s standing on her own. She feels unsteady, a little like she’s going to throw up, but otherwise reasonably okay.

‘Great. Then you can get us through as well, right?’ Ryan checks, and she feels her hearts tug as she looks at the expression on his face. He wants to come with her, and maybe she could pull them through as well, but she won’t.

So she does what she always does when her friends are in danger and she doesn’t want them at risk.

She lies.

‘No,’ she says. ‘Only I can get through.’

Instant protests from both men, Graham and Ryan clambering over each other to tell her how  _ ridiculous  _ it is for her to go alone when she can barely stand, how Yaz is  _ their  _ friend too, how they want to help her, but the Doctor shakes her head firmly. 

‘No. I’m sorry, but I can’t pull you through with me and I have to get to Yaz.’

‘So what are we meant to do?’ Graham asks, throwing up his hands in frustration. ‘While you’re out there risking your life we’re meant to - what, exactly? Sit back and hope you don’t  _ die?’ _

_ Yes,  _ she thinks, but she tries her polite cat face nonetheless, and Ryan rubs his face again wearily, recognising they can’t stop her and someone needs to get to Yaz.

‘Please be careful,’ Ryan tells her quietly, reaching out his hand to take hers. ‘Please.’

‘I’m always careful,’ she says, smiling softly, but Graham and Ryan exchange a look and they know she’s fooling no-one.

She straightens up, ignoring the steady build up of pain in her leg as the painkillers wear off and, with one with last look at Ryan and Graham,  _ shoves  _ her way through the flux until she falls out onto the other side, alone in the corridor and panting hard from the exertion. The air feels fresher out here, and she feels like an idiot for not noticing the flux before, but in her defence she is in a  _ lot  _ of pain and can’t be expected to function at 100% given the state she’s in right now. 

She looks behind her, Graham and Ryan hidden and safe in their little pocket of space and time, and shakily gets to her feet, leaning heavily against the wall when she feels herself tilting forwards.

‘Right then old girl,’ she says, once the dizziness has worn off somewhat, unsure if she’s talking to herself or the TARDIS. ‘Let’s go find Yaz.’

* * *

The corridors are still dark and the Doctor is glad she added a torch setting on her sonic, shining it in front of her as she stumbles in the gloom. The TARDIS is silent around her, powered down and humming so quietly it’s barely perceptible. She’s not sure where she’s going, but there doesn’t appear to be any more spacial fluxes around her and the lights are flickering a little, as though the power is trying to kick back in again. It hurts her eyes, and the Doctor realises she’s probably concussed as a bright flash sends bile hurtling to her throat and she retches, clutching her side and trying desperately to ignore the pain in her head.

She allows herself to slump to the floor, head in her hands until the wave of pain passes, but this proves to be a mistake when she feels unconsciousness grabbing at her and she forces herself to stand, suddenly wishing she’d dragged the two men through with her for support.

‘Could do with a hand here,’ she mutters, hauling her aching body along the corridor, but the TARDIS doesn’t respond and she grits her teeth and gets on with it. 

She’s starting to recognise where she is now as she staggers past the library. Take that left, three rights, the middle fork, up three flights of stairs and down two floors in a lift and you’ll reach the bedrooms where her fam all sleep. Take three steps back and jump down the slide and you’ll end up in the kitchen. There’s a pit of dread starting to form in her stomach now as she realises where she’s heading, and she knows before she sees where the Shananthra will be.

The door to the Eye of Harmony slides open, and the Doctor staggers in. 

The Shananthra -  _ Yaz  _ \- is standing in front of the railings, hair whipping around its face as the Time Winds send Artron energy hurtling through the chamber. The Doctor can feel her body absorbing some of it and the pain eases a little, allowing her to stand straighter and stride forward in what she hopes is a purposeful manner. 

‘I’m glad you’re here,’ the Shananthra says in Yaz’s voice. ‘The TARDIS has locked me out of the controls.’

‘Not just you,’ the Doctor responds, wishing her battered voice didn't betray how much pain she was in. ‘The TARDIS is smart. Smarter than you. She’s locked herself down.’

‘So unlock her.’

The Shananthra turns to the Doctor and snarls, and the Doctor realises with a stab of anxiety and a silent scream inside her head that burns are already appearing on Yaz’s arms, exposure to the Eye breaking down her fragile skin and  _ burning  _ her.

‘You’ve been in here too long,’ the Doctor calls over the roar of the wind, despair sneaking into her voice despite her attempts to hold it back. ‘You’re destroying your host.’

‘Then I guess it’s a good thing another suitable host was stupid enough to walk in.’

The Shananthra steps forward and bares its teeth, eyes glowing red as strands of Yaz’s dark hair blows around its face. 

‘Why are you in here?’ the Doctor asks, taking a step back as a precautionary measure when the creature inches forwards. The thought has just struck her and she doesn’t understand it,  _ needs  _ to understand it. ‘I’d have thought you’d be trying to get to the console room, let all your friends know you have the greatest ship in the universe and the whole cosmos is yours for the taking. Divide and conquer and all that.’

‘I can’t seem to leave,’ the Shananthra says with a snarl, and  _ that  _ set the cogs in the Doctor’s brain whirring as she stars at it open mouthed. Can’t seem to leave?  _ Why can’t it leave? _

‘I don’t understand,’ the Doctor says, because she really doesn’t. ‘You can’t leave? Why can’t you -?’

The realisation comes to her suddenly as she remembers the words of her previous selves.

_ You burnt it. _

Of course. The lockdown. The power. The spacial fluxes. The TARDIS hasn’t just been protecting them, she’s also been  _ herding  _ them.

The Doctor takes another look at the Eye of Harmony, and then back at the Shananthra, and understands why the TARDIS led her here.

‘But it’s Yaz,’ she whispers, and the TARDIS echoes the sentiment forlornly in her mind. 

There are more burns on Yaz’s skin now, blossoming across her arms and face. The Shananthra stumbles, dropping to its knees and the Doctor runs forward before remembering that her friend, if anything is even  _ left  _ of her friend, is buried so deeply inside that she’ll never get to her.

‘Would you really let Yasmin die, Doctor?’ the Shananthra says, raising its head and looking up at her with those burning red eyes. 

‘You wouldn’t let that happen,’ the Doctor tries, feeling a lump stick in her throat. ‘You need your host to move around. You’re not compatible with the Earth’s atmosphere, or the generated atmosphere inside the TARDIS.’

The Shananthra only smirks and stands and for a moment the Doctor imagines she can see a flash of pain as Yaz’s beautiful brown eyes resurface, but then the red is back and the Shananthra is stretching its arms wide open. 

‘I’ll let you say goodbye,’ it says, then suddenly it’s Yaz that’s stumbling forwards and Yaz who’s falling, crying and shaking into the Doctor’s waiting arms.

‘Hush, it’s alright,’ the Doctor murmurs, clutching her close. 

‘That thing - it made me  _ hurt  _ you. I could hear it inside my head, it made me -’

‘Ssh, I know,’ the Doctor says, holding Yaz like it’s the last time she’ll ever hold anyone.

Which, she realises as she feels the Shananthra’s barbs dig under her skin, it is.

‘We need to leave. Now,’ the Doctor says, pulling herself and Yaz to her feet as the creature burrows into her mind and clutches at her hearts. The pain is achingly familiar and the memory from a rocky beach a long time ago presses itself into her head. History is repeating itself. 

The Doctor clutches Yaz and half drags her to the door, desperate to get her out. 

The Shananthra is stretching inside its new body and the Doctor is beginning to fail at keeping it out, hearts pounding and head swimming. She utilises the old tricks she learnt with Missy in the Academy, the foundations of mind-protection they learnt as young children. Envision a ball inside your head, put your hands around it, hold it close, protect it. It doesn’t have to be much, just a little. Just enough. She focuses on this now as pain like nothing she’s ever felt before explodes inside her.

She screams, stumbles, hits the ground hard.

The Shananthra  _ laughs  _ inside her head.

‘Doctor?’ 

Yaz is in front of her immediately, hands on her shoulders but the Doctor pushes her away before the Shananthra can make her hurt Yaz.

She falls back like Sarah Jane did, looking at her with utter betrayal in her eyes.

‘Doctor?’ Yaz asks quietly, voice weak. ‘Where did the creature go?’

‘Yaz you need to -’

Black tentacles grip her vocal chords and the Doctor chokes as something squeezes tightly around her throat. She isn’t sure what’s happening with her face but she knows it must be bad because Yaz is scurrying away from her, fear and desperation in her eyes.

The Shananthra seethes inside her mind and forces her to stand as a pain, pure and sharp, stabs at every inch of her. 

‘Once I’ve killed you’ - the Doctor hears her voice speak, though the words are not her own - ‘I’ll come after all your friends.’

‘Doctor...’

Yaz is crying silently, but she still stands and steps in front of her, reaching out her hand as though expecting the Doctor to take it. 

‘I know you can fight it,’ Yaz says quietly, and then she cries out as new burns appear on her neck and the Doctor knows she’s out of time.

She gathers herself together and  _ pushes  _ against the invading force inside her head, buys herself one second.

But that’s fine. She’s a Lord of Time. One second is all she needs.

She takes a step forwards, perhaps the last time she’ll have control over her own limbs, takes Yaz’s hand, squeezes tightly, then  _ shoves  _ her friend with both hands.

Yaz flies backwards and the door slides shut, sealing the Doctor in the Eye of Harmony chamber and Yaz in the corridor outside, already banging on the door and begging the Doctor to let her in, to let her help.

_ Interesting,  _ the Shananthra muses, and the Doctor screams as it rips into her brain and she’s forced to turn and stagger to the control panel, her injured leg burning, her hearts thumping, her mind spiralling away. 

_ Unlock the TARDIS,  _ the Shananthra commands, and the Doctor realises it hasn’t taken full possession of her, not yet. It recognises it can’t fly the TARDIS on its own and it needs  _ her  _ to give it access. Her limbs are useless, she has no hope of controlling them now, she’s completely at the mercy of this creature.

_ I can’t let it take me,  _ the Doctor thinks.  _ I can’t let it control me. It’ll be the end of the universe. It’ll devour everything. _

_ You burnt it.  _

The Doctor can still use her eyes, and she gazes at the beauty of the Eye of Harmony in front of her as burns form on her skin and she screams inside her head. 

Time Lord engineering. Simple, yet magnificent. 

Distantly, she can still hear Yaz banging and sobbing outside the door and the creature forces her head down so her eyes are fixed on the control panel under her hands. The control panel which she may (with fifty different screwdrivers, a thousand metres of wiring and several strong cups of coffee) be able to rewire the main controls of the TARDIS through, but which is currently displaying the output of the Artron Energy being generated by the dying star and is useless for just about anything else. 

The Doctor watches as a burn forms on the back of her hand. It hurts, she feels the pain, yet not even a whimper escapes her lips as the Shananthra keeps its firm grip on her throat. 

_ If you can hear me, Doctor,  _ Sarah Jane’s voice sobs inside her head, the memory trying to push through again,  _ I’m so sorry.  _

Her hair whips across her face and the Doctor closes her eyes as the creature demands that she unlock the TARDIS, howling at her, digging its claws in, screaming and torturing her. 

_ She’s not a car,  _ the Doctor wants to say, but instead she thinks:  _ I need to see what’s happening underneath the Eye, it will help me reset the systems. _

This is a complete lie, of course, but the Doctor has always been good at those and the creature doesn’t possess all of her mind, although it may think it does.

The Shananthra drags her pained body away from the panel and presses her against the railings, head tipped down so she can see the black expanse of nothingness that hangs beneath the Eye of Harmony.

The warmth of the generated Artron Energy is soothing, despite the burns blossoming like petals across her skin, and the Doctor flicks her eyes up to take one last look at the power centre of her ship. Pulsing, radiant, beautiful. 

With Yaz banging on the door, the Shananthra making its threats and demands inside her head, and the noise from the star echoing around the chamber, the Doctor reaches into the part of her mind that she’s protected, feels her fingers twitch, grips hold of the railings and - with one last look at Yaz’s tear streaked face through the door - throws herself over the side of it. 

  
  



	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I've changed the chapters from 3 to 4 👍 4th chapter might not appear so quickly cause I'm on holidaaaaaaaaaaaay

_ A long long time ago. _

‘So you don’t have beaches like this where you’re from?’ Sarah Jane asks, idly kicking at the pebbles as she walks side by side with the Doctor under the cloudy grey sky, the sea hurling itself against the shore a few feet away.

‘Gallifrey isn’t known as a holiday destination, Sarah,’ the Doctor replies, bending to pick up a shell and frowning at it. He licks it and Sarah pulls a face. 

‘And I suppose you got its life history from that?’ she teases, and he chuckles and throws it back down onto the ground.

A few hesitant raindrops are beginning to drip down onto them and Sarah pulls up her hood and eyes the canary yellow roadster parked haphazardly further up the beach. She never asked where he got it from, though word around the UNIT base is that he stole it from a hospital car park and never bothered to return it. 

A sudden arctic blast causes her to shiver and Sarah tugs her coat tighter around her body, looking up at the sky as though expecting it to start snowing at any second. 

‘Where on earth did that come from?’ she muses. It isn’t the warmest day, but certainly not one that requires more than a good coat and some sturdy walking shoes. 

The Doctor, she notices, has frozen in place and is looking curiously around the beach, eyes darting from side to side as though expecting something to leap out at them. He looks tense, positively bouncing on the balls of his feet, and he puts Sarah rather in mind of a snake, coiled and ready to spring at a moment’s notice.

‘Is everything alright, Doctor?’ she asks, and his hand grips her arm and practically drags her along, setting a furious pace that sends her tripping over stones and rocks and almost falling several times.

‘We need to get out of here, Sarah,’ he says quietly. ‘There’s something here. Something watching us.’

‘But we’re completely alone,’ she says, frowning, looking around as she’s pulled and suddenly - yes. There. What was that? A black smudge against the cloudy sky, was it a bird?

‘Run!’ 

She’s flying now, the Doctor pulling her along so fast it’s as though her feet aren’t touching the ground. The smudge, bird, whatever it is, swoops towards them and slams into the Doctor. 

He lets go of her hand, shoves her aside and falls to his knees, fingers crawling at his throat as he gasps for air. Sarah Jane lies back on the pebbled beach, scooting away from him in horror, barely able to open her mouth to call for help or look away for an instant. 

There’s black lines crawling up his face, the skin pulsing and warping as his usually soft blue eyes turn red, and when he looks up at her his face is cold and expression cruel.

Sarah Jane opens her mouth and screams.

* * *

The Doctor presses her hands against her eyes, feels the harsh light behind them, the crushing pain as her body tugs and pulls in all directions. The Shananthra is screaming, clawing, scratching at her but she won’t let it go. They’re trapped together now, she and it. Her third self burnt it, but she’s got something better, something he didn't have, something that will destroy the creature once and for all with no chance of it ever coming back to torment her and her friends ever again.

She has a dying star in the act of becoming a black hole. 

She has the Eye of Harmony.

* * *

‘Please, I’m not making this up! You have to listen to me!’

The Brigadier’s secretary looks bored and uninterested by the young woman pleading for help in front of her. Sarah Jane’s hair is a mess, clothes torn and knees scraped from the stones, but she has both hands on the secretary’s desk and she’s leaning over and fixing her with a glare so strong that the poor harassed woman, already writing her notice in her head because this alien nonsense is  _ not  _ what she signed up for, reaches for the phone and dials the Brigadier, who was already on his way after hearing Sarah Jane’s shouts from way down the corridor.

‘What on  _ earth -?’ _

But before Sarah has a chance to tell him what’s going on, shouting, screams and gunfire explodes from down the corridor, and the Brigadier shoves Sarah aside as the Doctor marches into the room and points the gun directly at the Brigadier’s head, eyes red, skin pulsing, a trickle of blood appearing in his nose and ears. 

‘I need the codes for all of earth’s defences,’ the Shananthra says, voice cold and hard. ‘And I need it  _ now.’ _

* * *

_ You cannot win. I have control. _

‘Barely,’ the Doctor responds, managing a laugh even as she spits blood out of her mouth. 

_ You will stop this.  _

‘I will not.’

The Eye of Harmony shines above her and the Doctor lifts her hands, closes her eyes, feels the energy from the dying star and the Time Winds that ruffle her hair and warm her battered skin. It’s soothing, almost, but there’s something else too that reminds her of her plan, of what she has to do to save her family.

_ You cannot contain me. NO-ONE can contain me.  _

‘I know,’ the Doctor replies, opening her eyes and taking another step forward. ‘I don’t want to contain you though. I want to  _ destroy  _ you.’

She can feel the gravitational acceleration pulling, tugging, ripping the creature from her. She’s too close now, she’s being dragged towards it whether she wants to be or not, but that’s fine. That’s okay. She’ll gladly sacrifice her life to save her friends, to save the universe. She’s lived too long anyway. Everything has its time and everything dies. 

Sarah Jane said that.

* * *

‘Sarah Jane.’

The Doctor’s red eyes glare at her as he smirks and points the barrel of the gun at her. The Brigadier has already surrendered his gun and it lies at his feet while his secretary hides under the desk.

‘Is he still in there?’ Sarah Jane asks, stepping forward and looking the creature dead in the face. ‘Is the Doctor still in there?’

‘No. He is gone. There is only me.’

‘And what are you?’

The creature smirks and blood leaks from the Doctor’s nose and drips onto the floor.

‘I am the Shananthra. I am your destruction.’

‘That’s very poetic,’ Sarah Jane responds. She’d always thought she’d be scared when faced with her death but, in fact, the opposite is true. She’s not frightened at all. She’s brave, fearless. If this is how she’s going to go then she’s going to do it properly, none of that kicking and screaming she so often sees.

The gun barrel swings back towards the Brigadier. 

‘You will give me the codes to Earth’s defences.’

The Brigadier looks at Sarah.

The Doctor is gone. They are all that stands between the creature in front of them, and the total annihilation of the planet they love. 

* * *

‘You underestimate humanity,’ the Doctor pants, dragging herself forward again, arms lifted high into the air in front of her. She can see gravity pulling at the creature, blackness leaking out the end of her fingertips but the Shananthra screams and clasps tighter at her mind, howling in agony as the black hole pulls them both in.

_ Humanity is weak. _

‘Are they?’

The Doctor drops to her knees, screams, clutches her sides as the creature  _ stabs  _ through her like a knife. It hurts. It hurts so much.

_ Your kind are stronger than humans yet I can still make you scream. Humanity is merely a stain that needs to be wiped out of the universe. _

‘Was that your great plan?’ the Doctor whimpers, desperately trying to get back to her feet while the creature keeps her down. ‘Get rid of humans? Still sore after what Sarah Jane did to you, eh?’

She remembers now. Remembers what Sarah Jane and the Brigadier had done to her - to  _ him.  _ No wonder they hadn’t wanted to speak of it, no wonder he’d always caught the shadow of guilt in their eyes whenever he’d looked at them afterwards. 

The Eye of Harmony burns and pulses and the Doctor looks up at it, smiling, brightness and light burning her retinas. 

‘Sarah wasn’t afraid to do what needed to be done to save her world. And neither am I.’

* * *

The Shananthra escorts the two of them down the corridor, shooting whoever it comes across. The Brigadier is silent, but his hands are in fists at his sides and his expression darkens at every fallen soldier they walk past. One of them is still alive and he kneels immediately, hands pressed against the bullet wound in the man’s side, but the Shananthra grabs his shoulder and drags him back up again, forcing him to keep moving while the injured man dies alone.

‘You do not serve your men anymore,’ it hisses, displaying fangs that do not belong to the Doctor. ‘You serve only me.’

‘I serve this planet,’ the Brigadier shoots back, eyes blazing with anger. 

‘Your planet.’

The Shananthra cackles, head tilted back as it laughs. 

‘I have looked into the future of this world. You and your kind will destroy this planet. You’ll burn through its resources, pollute the very air you breathe, elect leaders that fight amongst themselves, murder the innocents you claim to protect.’ 

‘And I suppose you’re going to make it all better?’ Sarah Jane spits. 

‘No,’ the Shananthra replies. ‘I’m going to hurry it along, I’m going to  _ feed  _ on your world and then I’m going to move to the next planet. And the next. And the next. And so on until there’s nothing left and my hunger has finally abated.’

_ There’s nothing left of the Doctor,  _ Sarah realises with a radiating pain in her chest, but immediately another voice - her own - responds in a whisper.  _ You’re wrong. There’s us. _

Sarah looks at the Brigadier, and they come to a silent understanding.

This planet must be protected. This creature must be destroyed.

Whatever it takes.

* * *

The Doctor is directly under the Eye of Harmony now, arms spread wide, head tilted towards it, eyes closed as the sheer power and force beats down on her, whipping her hair and her clothes, burning her skin, whistling through her ears.

The Shananthra is gripping at her and screaming as it feels the Doctor’s agony but it’s laughing too, cold and dark and sinister.

_ You think your precious Eye will destroy me? I was born from a black hole. It will not hurt me. It is my home. _

‘Think again.’

The Doctor pulls her sonic from her coat pocket, points it in the vague direction of where she thinks the control panel ought to be, closes her eyes and takes a slow breath. 

‘Laugh hard.’

She presses the sonic and the familiar buzz fills the room.

‘Run fast.’

The winds intensify and the Doctor is lifted off her feet, the Shananthra pulled from her by the gravity leaching from the Eye of Harmony and tugging at them both. It screams as it falls into the Eye’s depths, the dying star fizzing and popping and  _ burning  _ as the creature makes contact.

‘Be kind.’

The Doctor opens her eyes, smiles, feels her mind clear, free from the creature’s grip as she’s pulled towards the power centre of her ship, pain gone and only calm left in her tired mind.

‘I think I did alright.’

The star goes supernova, the black hole collapses, and the Eye of Harmony explodes taking the creature - and the Doctor - with it. 

The room rocks once, violently, and the ship is silent. 

* * *

The Brigadier leads the Shananthra and Sarah Jane to the control room in the heart of the UNIT base, from which they receive their orders and can fire rockets and missiles and run operations. It’s probably the safest room in the base, but the Shananthra kicks down the door as though its made of cardboard and shoots everyone inside before dragging the Brigadier and Sarah Jane through.

‘The codes,’ it demands, and the Brigadier straightens his uniform.

‘And what will you do if I give you the codes?’ he demands, and the creature narrows its eyes.

‘Your planet’s atmosphere isn’t suitable for me. I will ignite it with your weapons, burn through the oxygen, replicate my own environment so I can  _ feed.’ _

‘You’d extinguish all life on this planet,’ the Brigadier says, skin paling.

‘It is inevitable,’ the Shananthra responds. ‘This body is failing already. You humans are so pathetic.’

‘Except he isn’t human,’ Sarah says, and the creature frowns.

‘I am in control of his mind. I see his life. He is -’

It pauses and shrieks, the Doctor’s limbs begin to twist and flail as the creature tries to escape but it’s too late.

The red eyes shimmer to blue, and the Doctor gasps.

‘I can’t hold it back for long,’ he stammers. ‘You need to destroy it.’

‘How, Doctor?’ Sarah begs. ‘Tell us how!’

‘If the host dies while the creature is still trapped inside then  _ it  _ will die also,’ he says, squeezing his eyes shut as pain explodes in his head. 

‘What, you’re saying you want us to  _ kill  _ you?’ the Brigadier says, expression shocked.

‘You have to,’ the Doctor begs. ‘And burn my body, don’t allow me to regenerate.’

‘Don’t allow you to  _ what?’  _

‘I’l explain later.’ The Doctor howls in agony and holds up his hand as Sarah Jane tries to run forward.

‘No. Don’t. Stay there. Please, you have to -’

His eyes snap back to red and he snarls as the creature takes back control.

‘A trick!’ it yells. ‘You cannot trick me. I am more superior, I am  _ indestructible.’ _

It sweeps the Brigadier aside with its arm, the other man hitting the wall hard and slumping against it, and stands at the control panel.

‘I do not need your codes,’ it spits. ‘The Time Lord is a genius. I can use his mind to determine them for myself.’

There’s a gun on the floor by Sarah Jane’s feet and she picks it up, feels the metal in her hand, feels bile in her throat as her stomach turns. 

The Shananthra is standing at the console, not looking at her, focusing on the screen in front of it as it decodes billions of sequences in seconds and Sarah points the gun at it, tears falling from her eyes. 

‘I can’t let you do this,’ she whispers, but the creature doesn’t hear her words, continues to program and type and follow the line of code from one side to the other. 

The Brigadier is unconscious on the floor, still and not moving, and Sarah notices one of the bullets fired by the creature when it came into the room damaged a jerry can full of emergency fuel UNIT keeps stored away in this room, in case they need to get away in a hurry. There’s a hole in the side of the can and, judging from the smell, it’s leaking fuel into the carpet by the creature’s feet.

Sarah Jane puts down the gun and looks at the body of one of the soldiers lying next to her, recognising his cold, still face.  

Perkins. Young lad. From Dorset. Enjoys reading, cycling and smoking. One of his few vices, he always said to her whenever she’d caught him hiding behind the storage sheds with a cigarette hanging from his lips.

She pats down his body, finds the small packet of matches, strikes one, holds it up.

The screen goes green and the creature lets out a cry of excitement. Its in. This is it.

‘I’m sorry, Doctor,’ Sarah says, eyes full of tears. ‘I’m so sorry.’

She throws the match. The fuel ignites. The creature is trapped behind a wall of fire and it screams as it  _ burns.  _

* * *

‘Could you ever forgive me?’

Sarah Jane sits side by side with the Doctor and the other woman smiles, takes her hand and kisses her cheek softly.

‘There is nothing to forgive. You did what I asked. You held it back. You  _ saved  _ your planet.’

‘But I didn't kill it.’

‘No.’

The Doctor wipes the tears from Sarah’s eyes with the pads of her fingers. 

‘But that’s good. I’m glad you didn't kill it. You’re  _ not  _ a killer, Sarah Jane.  _ My  _ Sarah Jane.’

Sarah Jane looks at her, her face older now, and smiles. 

‘I’ve missed you.’

‘And I you.’

There’s something tugging at the Doctor’s soul, pulling her, ripping her from Sarah’s side. The creature is dead, the Eye of Harmony destroyed. Her friends will be safe, the TARDIS has emergency fuel to get them home, but that’s it as far as she’s concerned. No more adventures in space and time. She’ll be uploaded to the Matrix and Sarah will… well. She must have come from somewhere, she’ll go back there. 

‘I don’t think it’s quite time for you, not just yet,’ Sarah says gently, and the Doctor scoffs and flops onto her back, hands behind her head. They’re lying on the very same beach where the Shananthra had first appeared, all those years ago, and the sea air smells fresh and clean in the Doctor’s nostrils.

‘I got blown up along with the Eye of Harmony,’ the Doctor says. ‘There’s no coming back from that.’

‘Did you?’

Sarah is tilting her head at her and smirking and the Doctor raises an eyebrow.

‘Did I  _ not?’ _

Sarah Jane stands and shrugs. ‘I guess you’ll find out. Either way, it was  _ so  _ wonderful to see you again.’

The Doctor reaches a hand for her, but Sarah fades out of existence. 

Dimly, she thinks she hears Graham’s voice. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well done to Brilliant_616 for spotting my plot device 🤣🤣 you can do your 'I was right' dance now!!
> 
>  
> 
> (Also who spotted the Avengers reference)


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO FINALLY FINISHED THIS.
> 
> I am SO SORRY this took me so long but I am SO GLAD it's finally finished. 
> 
> Also, if you want some atmospheric music, I wrote the final scene (after the second line break) while listening to 'Resolution' from the ParaNorman soundtrack. 
> 
> Please enjoy the final chapter of, as I've saved it in Google docs, 'voice in head thing' <3

Ryan bends down and lifts her up.

Behind him, Graham and Yaz are urging him to be careful, but at this point he isn't even sure if she's still  _ alive.  _

Her skin is black with burns, hair tangled, clothes torn and dirty. She's completely limp and unresponsive and her head dangles over his arm until Yaz carefully maneuvers it so she's tucked under his chin instead, arms resting neatly in her lap. Yaz’s hands are shaking, he realises, and she wraps her arms around herself, shivering though the TARDIS is warm. She looks unwell, like she might keel over at any second, and Graham feels his heart breaking for her; for what she must have gone through. 

'Careful, son,' Graham says as they step back into the spacial flux the TARDIS created for them, but his words of warning are unnecessary. Ryan is terrified of dropping her and he doesn't think he's ever walked so carefully in his life. Yaz stumbles ahead of them and Graham carefully puts a hand on her back to steady her, just in case. 

The TARDIS had let them out of the corridor they’d been stuck in after about twenty minutes. They'd both heard the explosion that had sent them crashing to the floor as the TARDIS had rocked violently around them before falling silent, and it hadn’t taken long for Graham and Ryan to find Yaz banging on the door to the Eye of Harmony, yelling and shouting and begging to be let in. The inside of the chamber was pitch black and it wasn’t until they’d forced the door open that they’d seen the Doctor lying on the ground, no sign of the creature anywhere, the dying remnants of an already dying star littered around her like ash. 

'I got it,' Yaz says, pushing open the medical bay door for Ryan to carefully shuffle inside. He lays the Doctor down on the bed she only left a few hours ago and immediately Yaz is fussing at her with a stethoscope as she tries to find the other woman's heartbeats, her hands trembling and heart pounding with the aftereffects of the Shananthra’s presence. 

'Any ideas?' Graham asks the ceiling, but the TARDIS is silent. 

'I think…'

Yaz pauses, head cocked to one side as she listens. Her fingers are pressing down hard on the Doctor's wrist, trying to find a pulse, and she frowns and hands the stethoscope to Ryan. 

'Have a listen. I think I can hear one but not the other.' 

Ryan concurs, and they quickly strip her of her destroyed clothes - which are hanging off her slim frame in tatters anyway - so they can get to her burnt skin. Graham finds the pot of healing gel in the cupboard and they carefully slather it over the burns and sores erupting across her arms and legs in silence, quiet and contemplative as they tend to their friend. Her skin is so burnt it’s almost impossible to find a healthy patch  and her chest is moving so imperceptibly that Graham wonders if they’re performing last offices rather than first aid. It’s a morbid thought and he tries to push it to the back of his mind but he just can’t help it. Heartbeat or not, she looks so very  _ dead.  _

The TARDIS is silent above them, none of its usual happy chirps or humming as it speaks to them, and Graham bites his lip as he finds some patches of fabric actually melted to the Doctor's skin, reluctant to pull them off thought he knows it needs doing. 

'She can't feel it,' Ryan consoles him, as he tugs off what's left of her trousers from where its stuck to her kneecaps. 

'We think,' Graham says quietly, and they finish their work in silence. 

Once her skin is clean and coated in the cream, they tuck her into the cot and pile blankets onto her as they wait for the TARDIS to give them further instructions, but she doesn't. It’s eerily quiet and still, no sign of life coming from any of the four walls, yet none of them even consider how they’re going to get home in a ship that won’t fly, too worried about their friend.

'What happened to the lights?' Ryan asks, looking at the ground where strips of red emergency lighting are running across the floor, flashing intermittently.

‘Probably whatever that thing was,’ Graham says darkly. ‘Its gone though, right? Yaz?’

Yaz stays silent, looking down at the floor with white knuckles as she grips the chair. Her hair is loose around her face and she looks grey. She has burns on the backs of her hands, arms and face, Graham notices, and he carefully applies more of the gel to his fingertips and smears it across Yaz’s burns while Ryan puts a hand on her shoulder. 

‘Not your fault,’ he says softly. ‘You know that, right? What’s happened to her, it isn’t your fault.’

But Yaz stays silent, and Ryan sighs and tucks a blanket around her shoulders. 

‘You should go to bed, Yaz,’ Graham says gently. ‘You’ve been through the wringer.’

But Yaz shakes her head and looks down at the Doctor. 

‘No. I’m going to stay with her.’

‘Then we’ll all stay,’ Ryan decides, pulling up chairs around the Doctor’s bed and settling into them as though preparing for a long haul flight. ‘Not a massive fan of the dark and I really don’t fancy trekking through this labyrinth of a ship without lights. I have a hard enough time finding my way around when they’re working.’

‘Agreed,’ Graham says, wriggling his shoulders and putting his feet up. ‘Gimme a shove if I snore.’

* * *

When Yaz wakes up, she’s back in her room.

She can hear footsteps outside, banging and crashes in the distance, and there’s soft light coming from the little lamp next to her bed. It seems like any other morning on the TARDIS, yet she remembers the feeling of razor sharp barbs in her mind and ice spreading through her chest from the Shananthra’s venom. She remembers an explosion of light, a violent lurch, the Doctor -

_ The Doctor.  _

Yaz springs out of bed and runs out into the corridor, heart pounding in her ears as she ignores the head rush  _ how long was she asleep for  _ and makes her way to the console room, checking around every corner and half crying in worry. Her body is aching but if feels as though its sore from lack of use than anything more sinister. The floor is cold on her bare feet but the lights are back up and she’s grateful she can see where she’s going. The TARDIS seems to be helping her out as well, because she’s sure she arrives at the console room quicker than normal.

‘Yaz! You’re up!’

Yaz cries out in joy, stumbling towards the woman stood at the console who has her sleeves pushed up and her braces hanging loose by her sides. The Doctor is as bright and breezy as always and she runs at Yaz and gives her a hug which Yaz gratefully returns before pulling away and gripping her arms, examining her friend’s skin for damage.

There’s a few burnt patches here and there covered in a neat dressing, and her cheek is perhaps a little pinker than normal, but other than that the Doctor looks absolutely  _ fine.  _ She’s even dressed in her normal clothes, hair swinging across her face as though she wasn’t near death not so long ago.

‘Were you worried about me?’ the Doctor asks, eyes bright. ‘You didn't need to be. I took a battering but I heal pretty well. We were more worried about you! You feeling alright?’

‘Am I -  _ me?  _ Am I - you - I -  _ you’re the one that got blown up,’  _ Yaz splutters incredulously.

‘Rather me than you,’ the Doctor smiles gently, thumb brushes against Yaz’s knuckles. ‘I have an emergency  _ oh whoops I died again  _ backup option that you don’t.’

She seems fine, outwardly anyway, but there’s something dark behind her eyes that Yaz doesn’t like the look of. Something uncertain or afraid. 

‘Its gone, right?’ Yaz asks quietly. ‘The thing that was inside me. Its gone?’

‘Course it has,’ the Doctor says. ‘You get thrown into an Eye of Harmony you better hope you’ve got life insurance sorted for your family. Speaking of, I’ll be needing a new one of those. Wanna help?’ 

* * *

Getting a new Eye of Harmony turns out to be a complicated process that involves a lot of swearing, banging, and exclamations in various languages that Graham, Yaz and Ryan are grateful the TARDIS aren’t translating for them; but after a few hours it hangs back in the chamber sending out winds of golden light and the Doctor beams, satisfied with her handiwork. She seems back to her old self, though there’s something imperceptibly  _ off  _ about her, and Yaz welcomes her suggestion to get food; suddenly realising how hungry she is.

The conversation that evening is the same as it always is. Light hearted banter, lots of laughs, and a warm sense of home and belonging - yet there’s a feeling growing in her gut that Yaz can’t shake and, after excusing herself with the excuse of wanting an early night, she hears Graham’s concerned voice as she leaves the room. 

‘She’s gonna be alright, int’she Doc?’

‘Don’t worry,’ the Doctor replies. ‘I’m keeping an eye on her.’ 

Yaz isn’t sure what she means but, when she wakes up later that night after experiencing a nightmare than makes her scream into her pillow, she finds herself outside the library where she can see the Doctor reading on the sofa through the crack in the door, blanket over her legs, Graham and Ryan long since in bed. 

She’s in two minds about whether or not to come in. There’s a twisting  _ turning  _ motion in her stomach but it doesn’t feel like nausea. It also doesn’t feel like the creature. She isn’t sure  _ what  _ it feels like. 

‘You coming in or are you going to stand there all night?’ the Doctor calls, and Yaz realises she’s been staring at her feet and the Doctor is now looking at her, eyes soft and warm. 

The blonde budges up without needing to be asked so Yaz can sit beside her, and she throws the blanket over Yaz’s knees as well, settling back so they’re shoulder to shoulder. It’s warm in the library, the Doctor has the fire going, and Yaz can feel herself falling asleep under the blanket. 

The book the Doctor is reading is written in runes, or what looks like it, and Yaz realises she’s taken the bandages and dressings off her burned skin. It’s still a little pink in places, but otherwise almost completely healed. She looks the same as always, but Yaz notices a small shudder in her hands that she quickly hides by sitting on them, plastering a cheery grin on her face that doesn’t quite meet her eyes.  

‘How do you do that?’ Yaz asks quietly. ‘You heal so fast.’

‘We call it a healing coma,’ the Doctor replies, examining her unmarked skin. ‘Nifty little way of healing if the injury isn’t bad enough to force regeneration. Honestly I thought I was a goner, but it turns out the TARDIS had just enough power left to wrap herself around the explosion, dulled it a little.’

The TARDIS chirps above her head and the Doctor smiles at it fondly. 

‘And me?’ Yaz whispers. ‘How long was I out for?’

‘A while,’ the Doctor replies carefully, and Yaz realises that a “while” may actually be  _ a while. _

‘How long?’

‘Yaz -’

‘Tell me.’

The Doctor looks at her, eyes narrowed a little. She puts the book down, marks her page with a ticket stub for the 1932 London Underground, and focuses on Yaz. 

‘About a week.’

‘A  _ week.’ _

‘My fault,’ she says quickly. ‘When I woke up I had to put you into a coma to make sure the Shananthra was gone completely, and to give you some time to heal.’ The Doctor tapped the side of Yaz’s head fondly. ‘You took a battering, but you pulled through.’

She looks sad for a moment, eyes far away and head dropping down towards her chest. 

‘I’m just sorry you were in that position to start with,’ she says quietly, and Yaz presses her head against the Doctor’s shoulder, unsure of what to say. 

It’s not the Doctor's fault and she’d never blame her, and honestly if it was a toss up of the Doctor or Yaz being harmed by a weird black smudge Yaz would choose herself every time, but she’s too tired and drained to try and convince the Doctor that she’s not mad at her, that she doesn’t blame her, so instead Yaz presses her head against the Doctor’s chest and listens to the  _ thump thump thump thump  _ of her hearts for a while; the soothing rhythm sending warmth spreading through her chest.  

‘And the Shananthra,’ Yaz says after a while, finding herself shaking a little at the mere mention of its name, though the Doctor’s presence is certainly helping. ‘That’s the -  _ thing.’ _

‘Yes.’

‘But it  _ knew  _ you. How could it know you?’

The Doctor looks at her and for a moment Yaz sees the age in her green eyes, the tired soul that hides behind them.

‘What’s the last thing you remember?’ the Doctor asks softly, and it’s as though she’s afraid to ask but needs to know. 

Yaz frowns, not wanting to sink back into that cesspool of memories, dark and swirling in her subconscious. The Doctor squeezes her hand again and Yaz wonders if she’d mind if Yaz asked her for a hug. 

‘I was with you in that house,’ Yaz begins uncertainly, and the Doctor nods in encouragement. 

‘Yes. Then what happened?’

‘I…’

Truth be told, Yaz isn’t sure she really  _ remembers.  _ There’s a feeling. Like ice, sharp talons, screaming inside her head. 

It’s when the Doctor carefully takes her hands away from her ears that Yaz realises she had them clasped tightly either side of her head, shaking as the phantom echoes of a creature long since gone tugs at her brain. 

‘It will get better,’ the Doctor says soothingly, pulling Yaz in for a hug. ‘It might take a few days, but it will get better. I can help if you like. I might be able to clear out some of the residue telepathically if it gets too bad, but it isn’t ever coming back.’

‘Your friend,’ Yaz says, tears down her cheeks. ‘I saw her. In my dream. And you were there too, I think. You looked different though.’ 

‘Classically handsome?’ the Doctor asks, tilting her chin in a pose, and Yaz laughs. 

‘I’m not sure about the velvet. It was a bit much.’

‘It was the 70’s!’ the Doctor says indignantly. ‘No such thing as “too much”.’

‘Agree to disagree,’ Yaz says and the Doctor smiles, but then grows serious again.

‘Yaz,’ she says gently, hand warm in Yaz’s, ‘what did you see?’

There were only flashes, scenes in a movie that didn't really add up, but Yaz remembers seeing through the eyes of someone else.  _ Being  _ someone else. 

She wonders if this is how the Doctor views memories every time she regenerates. It feels lonely. 

‘I was you,’ she realises suddenly. ‘I saw your friend but I was looking through you. It was like - I  _ hated  _ her, but I also loved her. I don’t understand.’ 

‘You were looking through the Shananthra,’ the Doctor explains carefully. ‘Like I said - residue. I got most of it out but there’s always a little bit left clinging to the sides. Like when you try and clean a mug with a dish towel that's got fluff on it.’

‘And you’re the dish towel in that scenario?’ Yaz asks, and the Doctor shrugs. 

‘Guess so. You saw things through the Shananthra’s eyes as  _ it  _ was seeing it through  _ my  _ eyes. My love for Sarah Jane, and its hatred for all things human.’

‘But she…’

Yaz remembers flames, remembers screaming and the smell of gasoline inside her nostrils. 

‘Sarah burnt the creature, burnt  _ me,’  _ the Doctor explains sadly. ‘She had to, she didn't have another choice.’

‘But that thing was inside you as well as me,’ Yaz realises suddenly. ‘You must have been feeling the same way I have. Have you been having nightmares too?’

‘Oh, Yaz,’ the Doctor says, tilting her head and tucking a wayward strand of hair behind Yaz’s ear. ‘When you live as long as I have, there’s always something nasty to dream about.’ 

‘And what do you do?’ Yaz asks, mouth dry. ‘When you have nightmares?’

‘Not sleep!’ the Doctor says cheerfully, lifting up her book by way of answer.

Yaz laughs and rolls her eyes, her first proper laugh in a long, long week. ‘I’m not sure that’s a healthy way of dealing with things.’

‘Probably not,’ the Doctor agrees, but then grows serious. ‘But I don’t need to sleep all that much anyway. How about you, Yaz? What are we going to do about you?’

‘I used to get into Sonya’s bed when I was little,’ Yaz remembers. ‘If I ever had nightmares that is. Before being a teenager happened and it was easier to be mean to each other than nice.’

‘I get that,’ the Doctor says, nodding thoughtfully. ‘Well you’re welcome to get into my bed if you ever can’t sleep. Don’t tell the boys though. Graham snores something awful.’

‘What about now?’ Yaz asks, heart in her mouth. ‘Can I stay with you now?’

‘Always,’ the Doctor replies, pulling her tightly against her side. ‘Whenever, and wherever you like.’

* * *

Graham finds them in the morning, Yaz fast asleep against the Doctor with the blanket drawn up to her chin. The Doctor is awake, looking into the fire as though hoping it will solve all of life’s mysteries, and Graham is just about to pop his head round the door and ask if she wants a cup of tea when the Doctor tilts her head, brushes a kiss against Yaz’s temple, and closes her eyes, settling against the other woman with a slouch as though all of her problems have just fallen off of her. 

She’s asleep before Graham has a chance to close the door.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE ALSO CHECK OUT THE MOST AMAZING PIECE OF ARTWORK FROM BRILLIANT616 ON TUMBLR! I died <3 <3
> 
> https://brilliant616.tumblr.com/post/185372141579/for-silverheart09-based-on-chapter-3-of-her?is_highlighted_post=1


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